In the company of the non-existent

Do you hear my voice, it comes from your land, that which you’ve left behind,
It is home, it is the patch of land that made, altered you,
This is my voice, from someplace close to home,
Remember my voice?
It’s the same me calling,
Can you pick up my words, do you grasp the meaning?
If not words, respond in action instead,
Give me a sign that what is living in the far away land is alive and agile,

Look in my direction; do you see me waving a white scarf?
Or you see it blue instead?
Do you recognize me? It’s the same I from yesteryears, that was not too long ago,
I am the same, save a few wrinkles, do you appear the same too, the way I last saw you?
Are we still as incomplete as a phrase, or have you completed the sentence?
Do you still play the puzzles of time, numbers and space? I even today read fictionalized words of real men.
Do we still sail on the fate wave, or have you leaped to a lone tide?
We don’t play the same tune anymore, have you changed the song too?

In this part of the world, living through irregularities and vague existences, I wonder what your part of the world is like.

Nod you head or parcel me a smile, turn me a note if you can, send me a dove, or a line that you’re doing fine.